The Misogynist Read online

  George got the point. Maybe letting a pedestrian cross in front of him against the light resulted in that person’s death later on. There was no way of knowing his impact on people around him. All he could do was the best he could do. And as Janey said, maybe he could help save some lives.

  “Ready for bed?” Janey asked, not pressing him for a decision or for his thoughts on the film.

  “Not yet. It’s nice here under the blanket with you. Plus, I need to tell you about the other big thing that happened today.

  “The other emailer, the one who proposed exposés, contacted me shortly after the one about Ashima James. The tone was different, but it still bothers me that the two emails arrived so close together like the last time.

  “Anyway, this guy – I think it’s a guy – says that Ryan Hamilton, CEO of lotsofjobs.com uses his AI algorithm to find people he can traffic. He sent me bios and introductions to two women who were sold into sexual slavery, an engineer sold to an oil conglomerate, and an immigrant who is now a domestic slave for some consulate people in the City. He gave me links to offshore accounts and to transactions linking Hamilton to the victims and the accounts.

  “Morris and Sterling Rockwell want me to do a series on human trafficking. It should only take me a couple of days to meet with the victims and to verify the information, then we’ll turn it over to the police while I get started on the series.”

  “George, this is exciting. If ever there were a question about whether your writing could make a difference, this should answer that. You could help countless people. I’m so proud of you! I’m envious. All I do is design and write software.”

  “And help me with my work. You kept me on track with the Michael James story when I was about to go completely astray. I have a feeling you’ll be helping me with these two stories. I couldn’t do what I do without you.”

  George kissed Janey as he picked her up and carried her to bed.

  7

  It seemed awfully early as Sam pulled her car into the lot on the north end of Lake Merced. There was frost on the ground and steam was rising from the lake’s surface – it was hard to see the water, but she could just make out a few brave souls gliding silently, effortlessly, across the placid lake. It looked like a meditative sport, one where technique and strength combined to deliver a sense of harmony between mind, body, and nature. At this point in her life, this was much more appealing than biking, running, swimming, or cross fit – activities that many of her compatriots at the hospital had taken up. It was more - elegant. And it was different.

  She made her way to the somewhat decrepit-looking wooden building perched, or perhaps teetering, on the side of the lake and checked her watch. She was a bit early. The class was to start at 7 and it was only 6:40. She walked most of the way around the building, then made her way back to the bulletin board which graced the wall next to a closed and locked sliding door. She had read most of the notices promoting upcoming rowing events as well as several ads offering sculls for sale when a familiar voice interrupted her reverie.

  “Doctor Louis, Sam! Are you taking this class too?

  Sam turned to see a smiling Mark Johansen standing next to a tall, slender man of about the same age.

  “Ah, this is Jack Trageser. He’s a fellow entrepreneur. Maybe you’re heard of his latest startup, Balanced News?”

  “Yes, someone at the hospital mentioned it. If I understand the concept, it’s a search and news site that goes against the grain of customizing news to the habits of the user. It tries to present a balanced set of results instead. Is that it?”

  Jack was striking, His dark hair contrasted with his stunning blue eyes. His air of self-confidence was not imposing. In fact, he seemed very comfortable with himself and with those around him. Yes, very attractive, indeed.

  “Yep. That’s it,” Jack replied, taking in all of Sam objectively. “And you must be the miracle-working Doctor Samantha Louis. Thank you for returning Mark to us.”

  “Well, he’s the one doing the work. What brings you two out here on a dreary Saturday morning?”

  “Well, you said I should get some exercise, something that would wear me out, and Jack suggested rowing. He’s been doing it for quite a while and actually teaches here on weekends. It’s his class today. This doesn’t present any conflict issues does it? I mean us being in the same class?”

  Sam thought about the issue. She should probably leave. That’s what she’d been taught in her professional ethics training. It was dangerous and potentially a breach of confidentiality to have relationships of any kind with a patient outside of the office. Still, Mark didn’t seem to have a problem with her being here, so the confidentiality issue seemed moot. She couldn’t see how just being in a class together would create a problem. And then there was Jack. Maybe just this one time. She’d be careful.

  “I’m not supposed to have interaction with patients outside the office but since it’s a class, maybe I could make one exception for today. However, I really do need to keep our relationship strictly on a professional basis.”

  “I hope that doesn’t apply to me,” Jack replied jokingly.

  “I’m not sure yet. Let’s see how today goes.”

  “I like her, Mark. Encouraging but cautious.”

  Then seeing a group of people approaching, Jack excused himself, “I see our other class members have arrived. I need to get things ready. See you guys in a few minutes.

  Jack pulled out a set of keys, unlocked, then slid open the large wooden door and went inside. A young man and a young woman from the approaching group followed him while the rest approached Mark and Sam. Introductions were made.

  Five minutes later, Jack invited the six students inside. He gave each standard liability forms, reviewed their clothing, and introduced Steve, the coxswain and Mary the bowman. Jack would be the stroke.

  The lesson began with verbal introductions and then followed with each person getting individualized instruction on a standard rowing machine. Jack explained that they wanted to avoid back and shoulder problems by getting proper body movement in place before stepping into the boat. Sam had previously done rowing workouts in gyms and as it turned out, Mary only made minor corrections in her technique.

  Sam looked over at Mark who was being coached by Steve. He seemed to be struggling a bit and Sam couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty, suspecting that the medication was affecting Mark’s coordination. But her worries proved groundless as within a few minutes, Mark was deemed ready for the boat.

  The boat in question was an odd-looking wooden craft that probably hadn’t been in the water in decades. Jack, Steve, and Mary helped each of the students take their places one-at-a-time in the boat, showing them the shoes and how to handle the large oars. Each practiced for a few minutes before the next took his or her seat. Jack, Mary and Steve took their positions.

  Jack explained that when Steve gave the order, they would all stroke together following his lead and matching his rhythm. The process was tedious and it was a good half hour before the crew had any semblance of consistency. Both Sam and Mark were surprised at how tired they were, and they hadn’t even gotten into the water yet.

  It was even worse when they got into the water with a real boat. Somehow, Sam hadn’t expected that the boat would feel unstable. That improved a bit once they started moving, but moving was a challenge

  Inside, coordinating their strokes had been easy. With the water resisting, it was much harder to work together. For the first twenty minutes, they stopped constantly.

  It did get better though as each person adjusted the strength of their strokes to match Jack’s, and as they really learned to focus on Mary for the proper rhythm and direction.

  By the end of the hour, they were moving smoothly through the water, making turns at the ends of the lake, and following commands uniformly. They were a team.

  “Great job!” Jack praised as the exhausted team exited the boat. “Change into your dry clothes and let’s get together for a debrie
f. Restrooms and changing areas are inside, men’s to the left, women’s to the right.

  Ten minutes later they all gathered together and Jack began, “Congratulations to all of you! You’ve just learned something that only a fraction of the population can do. Rowing is a unique sport. It can be competitive or it can be pure recreation. It can also be solitary and contemplative. Some of us practice all aspects. Personally, although I still compete from time to time with the club here, I must admit to loving to row alone or with one other person.

  “Here in the Bay Area, we’re really lucky. We can row all year long and have choices of placid lakes, the San Francisco Bay, and even the ocean. If this class piqued your interest, I’d suggest taking additional lessons from the club. We have reduced rates for members and ultimately, you can just reserve boats at no charge.

  “A few of you have expressed interest in rowing alone. I strongly suggest taking lessons with a group initially, then moving to just you and an instructor, then graduating to a single person boat. Also, if you want to row the Bay or the ocean, it’s best not to do so alone until you’re very confident with your skills and your water knowledge. Mother Nature can throw you some big surprises when you least expect them.

  “Anyway, if you want to continue, let one of us know and we can help set you up with a program. Thanks for coming out this morning, and again, congratulations!”

  As the male students approached Jack and Steve, Sam went up to Mary.

  “So, what’s it like to be a woman in this sport?”

  “It’s probably not what you’d expect. Most people have heard about men’s crew teams and international competitions. But not many know that the NCAA only sponsors women’s teams. I actually went to college on a rowing scholarship. Women’s participation in the sport is growing rapidly. Not just in school, but at the recreational level. Our club has several great women’s teams at all levels as well as a few coed ones. And while every sport has its macho component, there's not as much of that outside collegiate competition. With the recent push towards fitness, I think even more women are participating for recreation and fitness.”

  “Well, I’m not a terribly competitive person. I think I’m one of those women looking for fitness but also to meet people. I’ve spent what seems like decades in medical school and residency, and I need to get out more. At the same time, I’m no longer in my twenties, so the bar scene is not something I’m interested in.”

  Sam wasn’t sure why she was confessing this to a complete stranger, but Mary didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, I gotcha. On that front, I think that rowing is a great place to meet very fit men. Most are working professionals, and while you have to watch out for the married ones, the single men seem grateful to find someone who they can share a sport with.

  “Did I hear that someone is looking for a single rower?”

  Sam and Mary looked up to see a grinning Jack approaching.

  “Give it up Jack,” Mary replied. “Can’t you let two girls have a conversation without trying to be the center of attention?”

  Looking from Mary to Sam, Jack’s expression changed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can be a jerk sometimes. Please forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven. Now get lost.”

  As Jack slinked away, Sam asked, “Is there a story here?”

  “Yes and no. We did have a thing for a couple of years. We split up amicably and are actually very good friends. That’s why I can be so blunt with him. But every once in a while, little things he does piss me off. Sorry about that. He’s clearly interested in you and Jack is one of those guys who goes after what he wants and usually get it.”

  “You’re saying he’s as successful with women as he is in business?

  “Don’t get me wrong. Jack is a great guy. And he’s not a player. But I think he could use a bit more subtlety. Unfortunately, that’s not in his nature. And if you do decide to see him, be aware that like in rowing, Jack is used to setting the pace. Try to find your own pace and rhythm, not his. Otherwise, the ride gets too crazy and you can lose yourself.”

  “Ah, I’m not thinking about getting involved with Jack.”

  “Okay,” Mary agreed, a bit facetiously.

  “Mary, can you help set me up with a program? I had a great time today and I think it’s something I’d like to do.”

  “Sure. If you join the club, you get fifty percent off lessons and as Jack mentioned, you can get boats for free. I’d suggest taking a group class each week for the next few weeks. Then you can decide how you want to proceed. If you like, after next week’s class, we can set up a time and I can take you out, just the two of us. That will give you a completely different experience. How’s that sound?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  Sam joined the club and signed up for a lesson the following weekend.

  A few days later, as she began her weekly session with Mark, she brought up the weekend.

  “Mark, before we get started, I think it’s important to discuss what happened Saturday.”

  “I thought it went really well. I had a great time, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, yes I did. However, ethical rules and treatment rules dictate that I can’t have any interaction with patients outside the office. I discussed this with Doctor Karmere at the hospital. He’s always been a great mentor for me and he made it clear that I had crossed the line on Saturday. He said that I should have left and rescheduled.”

  “But I don’t have any problem with you being there. You’ve saved my life. And as we’ve discussed in our sessions, it’s important for me to be able to admit to myself and to others that I have this problem.”

  “That’s true. But it goes well beyond just the confidentiality. You need to see me in a very specific role – your psychiatrist. In that role, I can help you and we can work together professionally. Unfortunately, when you see me involved in other activities or with other people, you begin to think of me differently and that will affect how we can work together in the office.”

  “Okay. I think I can sort of see where you’re coming from. I really don’t think we’d have any problems, but if this is what we need to do, well, as they say, you’re the Doctor.

  “So, where do we go from here?”

  “Well, Mark, I’d like to continue rowing. So if you’re going to continue as well, we need to make sure that we’re not taking classes together. I’d rather not talk to the instructors about this – again, a confidentiality thing, so perhaps you could check schedules or work with Jack to make sure we’re not there at the same time.”

  “That sounds complicated. I mean, there are only so many classes. Plus, once the classes are done, how do we avoid each other if we’re just showing up to row or if one of us is already rowing and the other shows up?”

  “You’re right. This is harder than I thought it would be. I think I need to pick another sport or find another club.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to give up rowing on my account. I’m actually not that into it anyway. Maybe I should give it up.”

  And now Sam understood what Ken Karmere had reiterated. Just this one incident had complicated her relationship with Mark. If she quit, he’d feel bad. If he quit, he might resent her or she might resent him. This was not good.

  “Mark, you can see that this has already complicated our working relationship. I should have done the ethical thing on Saturday and left. I knew it, so this hiccup is my fault. As the doctor, I’ll make the decision. I’ll either find another club or another sport to pursue. I really apologize for making this so complicated.”

  “Okay. I’ll go with your decision. There’s still a big part of me that thinks it wouldn’t be a problem to see you outside the office, ah, casually. But I understand.”

  “It’s settled then. Let’s move on. Tell me about your week.”

  And amazingly, their session got back on track. Using the Socratic Method, Sam challenged Mark to take new perspectives on some of his beliefs. At times it was diffi
cult, but per the plan that Sam had laid out, therapy was moving forward.

  8

  Brittany stormed into the Investigations Bureau of the San Francisco Police Department.

  “I want to see Mike McKensey now!” she shouted.

  Melissa, who had manned the front desk of Investigations for over ten years, examined the young woman who was clearly upset.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “I don’t need a fucking appointment! My mother, Ashima James, was murdered two weeks ago and from what I can see, that asshole McKensey hasn’t done shit to find out who killed my mother.”

  “Ms. James, may I remind you that this is a government office. You need to calm down or I’ll ask an officer to have you removed.”

  “I don’t need some god-damned glorified secretary to tell me to calm down. I’m a citizen who pays taxes and you work for me. Now get me McKensey before I come across that desk and rip your throat out!”

  Melissa nodded at a concerned police officer who came up and took Brittany by the arm. Brittany took a swing at him but he deftly ducked.

  “Ma’am, you have just assaulted a police officer. If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to arrest you.”

  “Fuck you, asshole! You assaulted me. I know my rights. I’m going to sue you and this whole fucking department for police brutality.”

  The officer glanced at Melissa who nodded in assent. Clearly this one needed to be restrained. The guard pushed Brittany against the wall, pulled her right arm behind her back while attaching a handcuff, then did the same with the left. Brittany screamed and continued her litany of non-stop epithets. After a few minutes, she went suddenly quiet and seemed to relax.

  As she was being led away, Mike McKensey approached.

  “Ms. Spangler, if you can calm down, my partner and I can give you an update on the investigation.”

  Seeing her nod as she tried to hide her tears, Mike continued, “Have a seat. I’ll find a conference room and will be right back. Shawn, you can remove the cuffs.”